


Possession

by Feeeshy



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Brief Mention of Blood, Clothing Kink, Consensual Possession, F/M, Knifeplay, Leather Kink, Marking, Possession, Unnamed Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Warrior Warrior of Light, masochistic tank WoL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:34:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24116608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feeeshy/pseuds/Feeeshy
Summary: She reached up and cupped his face in her hands again, her thumb gently stroking along his cheek, mentally steeling herself. She was usually the first to run into danger without thinking, and tonight would be no different.“Possess me.”“I beg your pardon!?”
Relationships: Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch & Warrior of Light, Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 14
Kudos: 174





	Possession

**Author's Note:**

> I think there's a bit in canon that states Ascians can't possess people with the echo, but this fic ignores that entirely.

Finally, blessedly, the Warrior of Light’s long day of being pulled in every direction, helping any and all in Lakeland that needed it, had come to an end. And even more fortunate, she could spend the rest of the night in her room in the Pendants, with a proper bed to sleep, instead of her usual roughing it across all of Norvrandt.

It had been a while since she had the privacy of her room, and quietly hoped a certain Ascian would take advantage of this. 

The familiar scent of cinnamon and firewood greeted the hero as she entered her room. Leaning her great ax against a wall, she began the slow process of peeling off her heavy armor piece by piece, and setting them aside for a thorough cleaning tomorrow. Once washed off and changed into a thin undershirt and smallclothes, she fell back onto her bed with a satisfying flop, ready to drift off if no one deigned to keep her company.

She thought it was a dream at first, the sound of a portal opening above her, until a familiar weight settled on her lap.

"Busy day out saving the world, dear hero?"

She opened her eyes to see Emet-Selch looking down at her, his hands on either side of her as he sat straddled across her hips.

“You just invite yourself onto my bed now, Ascian?” 

“You seem tired, so I thought you might like dinner in bed, tonight.”

She snorted a laugh, his lips curling into the smallest of smiles. Reaching up, she ran her fingers through his hair before wordlessly cupping his face and pulling it down to hers.

She had missed him, and it was evident in their slow, chaste kiss. 

The Scions had no idea of her secret tryst with the Ascian, no idea of the hauntingly familiar comfort he offered her, nor his inexplicable ability to calm the light within her. These stolen moments with their enemy were her secrets to keep and savor, acts of selfishness she allowed herself to indulge in behind closed doors.

And, for whatever reason, the Ascian hadn’t refused or mocked her when she had first sought out his company. Mayhaps he needed a selfish secret as well, she reasoned.

He swiped his tongue along her lips, hungrily seeking more of her. She allowed him in and he eagerly deepened their kiss, leaning more of his weight onto her to pin her under him. Her own hands came up and under his cost, ready to slide the heavy regalia off.

The rhythm of her kiss faltered when she suddenly remembered an idea she had earlier, inspired by her and Thancred talking about past adventures.

She gently pushed at his chest, and he relented back just enough to have heated breath between them.

“Is everything alright, my dear hero?”

She hesitated, suddenly feeling like she was asking something very intimate of the Ascian. 

“There is...something I want to try. If you are willing, that is.”

“Well, out with it, then.” He pulled back to better look at her, brow cocked. “Must be something interesting, you usually aren’t so coy.”

She reached up and cupped his face in her hands again, her thumb gently stroking along his cheek, mentally steeling herself. She was usually the first to run into danger without thinking, and tonight would be no different.

“Possess me.”

_“I beg your pardon!?”_

Emet-Selch balked at her request, gold eyes going wide and eyebrows raising. He pulled away from her touch, scrutinizing her as if to find the reason for her bizarre request written on her face.

“You can do it, right? Like how Lahabrea possessed Thancred for a time,” her words tumbled out as her confidence waned under his intense gaze. 

“If I remember correctly, your friend decidedly _did not_ enjoy that.”

“Well, he didn’t very well ask for it, did he?”

Opening and closing his mouth like he meant to argue, Emet-Selch instead settled on giving her a silent look of disbelief before sliding off her lap to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Why would you even ask for this?” he asked after a moment of staring out into the room. “It’s no easy thing, you know, for two souls to share a vessel.”

Sitting up on her elbows, she shrugged.

"I just got the idea earlier, wondered what it would be like." She was never one to dwell overly much on why she wanted certain things, and generally never had much tack in asking for them. This bluntness is what brought her to invite the Ascian to her bed in the first place.

She sat up on her knees and scooted next to him, sitting side by side on the bed. He hadn't outright refused her, yet. That gave her a little hope that her odd request wouldn't be turned down. Brows still furrowed, he seemed to be putting much more thought into this than she had.

"We don't have to, you know. If it makes you uncomfortable," she said, offering him a way out.

“You're concerned about _me?"_ He turned towards her, an emotion she couldn’t name flashing behind his golden eyes. _"Were_ we to _attempt_ this, I could easily, _inadvertently_ , overwhelm your fragmented soul, sending you to oblivion.”

Once again, she only offered a nonchalant shrug. She supposed the idea would sound terrifying to most people, but most people hadn’t fought primals or voidsent or _Zenos_ and lived to tell about it all. The things that sparked fear in her were becoming few and far between, and her curiosity as to what his possession could possibly feel like overrode what little common sense she had left.

He sat for a few more moments in quiet thought before standing from the bed, and the hero held her breath in anticipation for his decision.

“...I need to leave this current vessel someplace safe while we do this.” A jolt of excitement shot through her. “I will be right back.”

Without looking back, he summoned a portal and disappeared though it, leaving the hero to her own excited fidgeting as she waited for his return.

The bloom of dark aether reappeared, and out stepped a black robed figure, hood drawn up and a red mask obscuring half his face.

Warmth crossed her cheeks. She had never seen Emet-Selch wear anything other than the Garlean regalia before. All that time fighting Ascians, she never stopped and noticed how _nice_ the robes they wore were, how enticing those metal claws looked and how much more imposing and powerful he looked in it.

He cleared his throat, and her blush deepens as she realized she had been staring.

“Are you still sure you want this, hero?”

She nodded and hopped off the bed, fantasies about the things Emet-Selch could do to her while wearing his Ascian robes filed away for another night.

“I’m ready as long as you are,” she said as she came to stand before him, looking up. Somehow, he'd even gotten a bit taller.

Even though hidden in the shadow of the mask, she could feel his eyes on her, watching for any hint of hesitation, any misgivings she may have about this. 

“If at any point it becomes too much, just say the word and I will remove myself." 

Another moment more of consideration before he raised a hand up towards her, and her world went dark.

  
  
  
  
  
  


_...Hero..._

The voice sounded far off, muffled, like someone calling to her from a beach while she drifted below an ocean’s currents. 

_Hero…?_

The voice was getting closer. She tried to open her eyes, to find its source, but there was only darkness. A weight settled on her chest, and with an acute terror she realized she was sinking. 

_Hero?!_

She tried to swim to the voice, but her limbs moved sluggishly through the void. The weight on her chest grew with every passing second, quickly dragging her down deeper and deeper into the abyss. Pressure began to mount all around her until it paralyzed her with its intensity, suffocating her, like the darkness itself was attempting to crush her. Her lungs burned as she desperately tried to gasp for air, heart racing as the edges of her consciousness began to erode away.

She faintly felt a hand grab hers, but then there was nothing.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


She opened her eyes to the blinding light of her room, immediately doubling over and catching herself on her hands before she collided with the floor. Dry heaving, gasping for air, her pulse ran high and sweat dripped from her brow.

_"What was that?!"_ she shrieked to the empty room.

_It is what you asked for!_

She didn’t hear Emet-Selch’s voice so much as feel it, his indignity and concern washing over her like tidal waves, knocking the air from her lungs again and threatening to steal her back to that endless darkness. His emotions, vivid and raw, shifted, and each time she was lost in their intensity; his panic, his worry, his-

But then it was gone.

It was all she could do to hold herself up by her shaking arms, staring at the floor to her room as she concentrated on leveling out her breathing.

_...I will admit that I have never attempted to...share...a vessel before. This is a learning process for me, as well, you understand..._

His emotions still rolled through her, but much more muted now, like a barrier had been put between himself and her. She could feel the apology in his words.

Gradually, the room stopped spinning, and she managed to get, unsteadily, to her feet. Holding her head in her hands, her thoughts raced in trying to make sense of what just happened. 

“That was…much more intense than I imagined it would be. What was all that?”

Sharing a body, he could no longer hide behind a cool exterior and aloof demeanor. Even dulled, his feelings washed over her, and a silent hesitation accompanied by a tightness in her chest was the answer to her question.

“... _Oh_...was that...you?"

A sharp pang of his distress shot through her before it was hurriedly tapered off. 

_...As I warned you before we started this, my dearest hero, the vastness of my unsundered soul can easily overwhelm your weaker, fragmented soul. Even now, it’s taxing for me just to keep you on the surface._

Her body tensed, her breath stilling as the weight of his words settled on her. For him to explain to her the discrepancies in their souls was one thing, for her to actually _experience_ it was something else entirely, and if all of that ocean of darkness was truly him...if _only_ _by_ _his will_ was she even still conscious...

Reassurance, warm and gentle, rolled through her from within.

_It was not my intention to overwhelm you. We can stop, if you wish. You need only give the word._

She cursed herself, realizing too late that he could feel her emotions also. 

"It is just a bit much to take in, but I still want to do this. I want to feel _you,_ ” she asserted, focusing on her desires so that he could know her conviction without question. “That is, as long as you’re still comfortable. You do seem to be doing most of the work here."

A pause. Then, ethereal warmth bloomed in her chest, gently filling her until even the tips of her fingers felt the strange, comforting embrace.

"I knew this could be lovely." She sighed happily.

A thought suddenly came to her. Walking over to her full length mirror, she turned and twisted in front of it, examining herself. Despite the ordeal only moments ago, she looked no different from her usual self, save for a fading flush.

_Is everything alright?_

“I was just checking to see if this had any kind of effect on my appearance, is all.”

_Your appearance would only change if I willed it so, but I have no intention of doing that._

Her shoulders dropped a little. A small part of her had hoped there would be some form of physical manifestations to his possession. Perhaps see his golden eyes instead of her own when she looked in the mirror, or have his streak of white in her hair.

He must have felt her slight disappointment as a warmth spread through her again.

_...However, there is one thing I can still do, without leaving a permanent mark..._

Cautiously, his aether began to flow through her, hot in her veins, and with a sudden surge of it Emet-Selch's glyph appeared in front of her face, its intricate, fiery-red lines reflecting in her mirror. 

Breath catching, there was a pulse between her legs at the sight of it, then a sinking feeling in her stomach at the realization that— **_Oh?_ **

Cheeks burning, she felt his mirth mix with her own embarrassment.

_Dear hero! I had no idea the effect that alone had on you. What an absolutely pleasant discovery._

The sigil faded, and the hero was left looking at her own reddening reflection.

_Did you have that same reaction when I first introduced myself? Had I known you wanted to bed me even then..._

"Stoooop!" She whined at his taunting, burying her head in her hands. In her eagerness to try this out, she failed to realize just how deep their bond would be together. Exposed to each other like never before, every little change and flux in emotion laid bare for the other to feel.

And now, she could feel his soul humming happily on finding out this little secret of hers, of how easily he could turn her on.

_Go lay on the bed._

She looked up, surprised at the sudden command.

“Getting bossy now?” Happy for a subject change, she made a point of playfully dragging her feet. “Whatever could you want on the bed, I wonder...” 

Faint impatience bubbled up from the Ascian at her teasing.

_The sooner you get over there, the sooner you’ll find out, my dear._

Like the morning sun breaking over the horizon, a wicked idea dawned on the Warrior that stopped her mid-step. Retracing her steps back to in front of the mirror, she had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning. 

"Make me."

The constant low hum of Emet-Selch’s soul grew silent. 

_...And how would you propose I do that?_

He asked slowly, his voice the only thing of him she still felt. It was as though he had somehow retreated away from her, taking his already dulled emotions completely out her awareness’s reach.

“I-I...” She stammered, mouth going dry. Her tongue failed her as she tried to put to words what it was she wanted from him. Considering what she had already allowed the Ascian to do, it was silly to be shy about much else now, but his sudden withdrawal had shook the conviction she had moments ago.

“You know...” She settled on making vague hand gestures to help get her idea across.

_Come now, hero, I’m going to need you to be very precise in_ **_what, exactly,_ ** _you want me to do._

The hair on the back of her neck raised at his voice reverberating through her. He knew what she was asking for, she just needed to say it, _he_ needed to hear her say it.

She licked her lips as she found her courage again.

“Take me. Take over me _fully._ I want to be at your mercy.”

As if her words had opened a floodgate, his aether surged through her veins, burning white-hot with his own arousal at the Warrior of Light’s complete submission to the Ascian. The intensity of it brought her back down to her knees. Darkness filled her vision again, a feeling of rapid sinking overcoming her.

This time, she was quickly pulled up to the unseen water’s surface. As she came back to consciousness, she felt light, as though floating. When the haze finally cleared, she was still looking at herself in the mirror, standing now— 

But while her face was still hers, the expression she wore was undeniably _his._

"My, my, my." Now tinged with his influence, her own voice dripped like a sweet poison. "Whatever shall I do with my new toy?"

Stunned into silence, she could only watch as her hands drifted over her body, the movement completely out of her control. This was unlike anything the Warrior had ever experienced before, and hers was a life filled with truly odd happenings. All her senses were intact and she could feel everything, but it was as though she were a puppet on a string.

It was nice, in a way, to surrender complete control to another.

Her fingers explored along her stomach under her thin undershirt before sliding low to run along the top hem of her smallclothes.

“I wonder, are you a brave, or an exceptionally foolish, hero for asking for something so dangerous...” Her puppet master smiled, fingertips dipping under the hem of her smallclothes to push them down ever so slightly. 

Slowly, the fabric slid lower, building in the Warrior exhilarating anticipation with every ilm of skin exposed.

“What a lovely Warrior of Light I have, and all just for me to enjoy,” Emet-Selch purred happily, his honeyed words sending a blaze of want though her. “Whatever am I to do with a treat this exquisite…”

The Warrior’s hands stilled as the hem came to rest just above the start of her dark curls.

“Mayhaps,” her excitement crescendoed into dread at the danger laced into his voice, “if you want the full effect of being at my mercy, of being _mine,_ then this will not do. I think a change into more appropriate attire is in order.”

Before she could protest, dark aether began to swirl and twist around them, kissing her skin in cold wisps. The aether fully encompassed her and blocked her vision.

In a flash, Emet-Selch’s red sigil cut through the curtain of darkness, and she was suddenly aware of soft leather squeezing tightly over her skin and heavy cloth draping over her previously exposed shoulders. A gust of wind swept through her room as the aether dissipated, revealing a sight that left her lightheaded.

In the mirror’s reflection was the Warrior of Light, standing proud and with an uncharacteristically smug grin, clad in the dark robes of the Ascians.

“Like what you see, hero?” Metal claws caught the light as Emet-Selch raised her hand to examine the change of wardrobe. “Don’t think I missed how you looked at me when I returned earlier.” 

Even though seeing herself in the enemy's uniform was exhilarating on it’s own, the hero noticed another especially nice, intoxicating detail.

_...These robes smell like you._

Her voice sounded weak and echoey in her disembodied state. 

“Well, _yes_ , I suppose they would, seeing as how they _are_ mine.” His confidence faltered at the hero’s unexpected comment. “A few easy adjustments was all that was needed to dress you as every bit the Ascian vessel.”

The idea of wearing _his_ clothes filled her with a soft warmth.

_It's nice. I like it._

“I can tell.” His self-satisfied air returned. “Such a greedy thing you have been tonight, you know. I’ve very nearly given you everything you’ve asked for.”

The hero hummed in thought.

_There is one more thing I'd like to ask for._

“After how charitable I’ve been, what more could you possibly want?" Despite his words, his aether simmered in her, growing hot and hungry.

_The claws on your glove. Use them on me._

He smiled in a way that flashed his teeth, raising her hand to delicately clink the metal tips together. 

“Look who's being the bossy one now, hm? _"_

_Please._

He stilled as his aether burned hotter. He turned to the mirror, looking at her through her eyes.

_“Oh,_ I like the sound of you begging.” His voice rumbled low, like thunder in the distance. “How about we get more of that? I fear I may have spoiled you tonight."

She huffed impatiently, his own growing desire mixing with hers into a heady cocktail in her mind.

**_Please_** _use them on me._

He hiked his robe up to reveal the leather pants underneath, the material so much richer and softer than any leather the hero had ever owned. Starting just above the top of his boots, he dragged the metal tip up her leg, putting just enough pressure to feel through the fabric without cutting into it.

"Is this what you wanted?" He knew it wasn't, the sensation much too dulled to satisfy her.

_Harder._

He met her eyes in the mirror again with a gaze so intense she could feel the heat off it. With a groan from her, he moved the claw away.

“Tsk, tsk. Oh, you are going to have to do much better than that." 

**_Please_ ** _, I want to feel it._

He brought the claw to her mouth, opened wide, and pressed the flat of her tongue to the cold steel. She felt her body shudder, her response so strong now that even her smaller soul could manage a physical effect.

_Please!_

“Please what?” He whispered against the slicked metal.

**_Harder!_ ** _Please, Emet-Selch, I want to feel you rake it across my skin! Mark me for your own!_

He chuckled, a low, cold sound that filled the room.

“You mean, like _this?”_ Starting again above his boots, he pressed down hard enough now to break through the fabric, dragging the sharp metal up her leg and leaving a thread-thin red line in its wake as he split the fabric.

The sharp, exquisite pain was nearly enough to send her over on its own, but something grabbed her, stopping her short of that sweet release.

“I don’t think so, _dear hero.”_ His growl sent electricity up her spine. “You will be done when _I_ allow it.”

Again and again, clothing was pushed aside or cut through as he drew the claw's tip over her body anywhere he could reach. Her legs, her stomach, her sides, all marked with long red lines, blood beading along their paths. Waves of pleasure threatened to suffocate her, the divide between their sensations eroding away with each drag of the steel across her skin.

She fought desperately against whatever force of his was holding her from her peak.

_Please! More! Let me-!_

In one rough motion, he pulled the ruined leather pants down and off her legs, leaving her bare to the humid air of the room. 

“You want _more,_ my dearest hero?” His voice was breathless even as he tried to stay in control. “So _greedy_ , so _needy_.” 

The metal and claws on the glove dissipated into wisps of aether. Kneeling down and leaning on one hand for support, he rocked back onto the balls of her feet, angling her hips up to give himself a lovely view in the mirror. The gloved hand slid down and over her hips before slipping two fingers between her legs.

_What are you—?!_

In a display of pure wanton lust, he spread her folds open with the gloved fingers, putting her on full display for the Ascian to enjoy.

“What a lovely view.” His arousal surged through her like the sea churning in a storm. Feeling exposed and vulnerable under his unwavering gaze, she watched breathlessly as a black gloved finger slid over her sex, her wet making the dark fabric shiny and slick. “Such a good hero, so ready and eager for me.” 

He hissed through his teeth as he slipped a finger into her entrance, then another, and began slowly pumping and easing her open until he could fit both down to the last knuckle. His eyes stayed fixed on her reflection, watching his fingers disappear into her wet warmth before sliding back out, again and again.

_Please please please please please_

She couldn’t take it anymore. Their mixed sensations were too much, too intense, all of it consuming her. She was so close, dangling on the edge, if he would just _let her—_

**_Please,_ ** _Emet-Selch!_

She begged fervently, her disembodied voice gaining strength with her desperation for relief.

His thumb rubbed over her swollen clit, and that sudden surge of electrifying pleasure finally knocked loose whatever grasp he had on both of them.

Ecstasy like she had never felt before cascaded through her, every single nerve in her body set alight as infinite darkness swallowed her whole.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Slowly, she opened her heavy eyelids, and the sight that greeted her was the ceiling to her room. She was laying on her bed, she realized, and very, very tired.

_"What-?"_

There was a startled sound next to her. She looked over to find Emet-Selch, back to his Garlean emperor appearance, sitting arms crossed in a chair next to her bed. If she had to guess, he looked at though he must have fallen asleep while waiting for her to wake up.

"Oh thank Zodiark, you're awake." Relief filled his voice as his shoulders visibly relaxed back down.

Confused, she blearily peered up at him.

"What happened?"

Decidedly breaking eye contact, he cleared his throat.

“You may recall that, earlier tonight, I explained to you that I was actively holding your soul up and out of the vastness of my unsundered soul?" He looked everywhere but at her as he explained. "I may have, ah, accidentally let you slip, as it were. But, you're awake now and seem none the worse from your brief dip into the oblivion, being the resilient hero that you are."

She just stared at him, too exhausted to care that the Ascian might be implying that she may had briefly died.

"Okay." She scooted over in the bed to make room for him.

"...Okay?" He looked warily between her and the offered spot.

"Okay," she repeated, yawning and nuzzling down into her blankets.

A few minutes later, just as she was about to fall asleep, she felt the bed sink down next to her, and his warm body pressed against hers in a gentle embrace.


End file.
